CHIMERA
by wired4romance
Summary: Vincent and Catherine finally catch a break and begin to experience 'normal' life with their baby until a rogue geneticist learns of the baby's existence. Now it's a race against time and a difficult struggle with the choices they've made...
1. Chapter 1

**Chimera**

_A/N – Hello again! Having finally finished Bridgewood, my historical BATB fanfic about Rebecca and Alistair, I took a break, but now I'm back. It's been a while since I've written a VinCat story. I needed to catch myself up, so I thought some of you might need that, too, especially if you haven't read my other BATB fanfics. So to help bring everyone up to speed, here are some things you need to know about my BATB world:_

_In my S2 VinCat stories (message me if you want a list of them in the order they were written), Vincent regained his memories and eventually got back to being basically the same guy from S1, only with more strength and skills. Tori didn't die but has come into her own and is currently in a love relationship with Blaise—a blind, homeless man who took her at "face" value. Through recent surgery he's recaptured some of his vision and is a good partner for her, balancing her cranky disposition with his unfailing wit and charm. Gabe Lowan never turned evil or became a beast again. There's still an awkward friendship between he, Catherine, Vincent, Tess and JT, but they're working at it. Tori got pregnant but miscarried. Then Catherine accidentally found herself pregnant with Vincent's child. Though concerned, they nevertheless accepted it and planned to marry. However, tragedy struck when Bob Reynolds was released from jail to battle a former opponent who was developing a rogue army of super-soldier beasts. He developed a virulent toxin to kill all beasts only to learn his daughter was going to marry one and was having Vincent's child._

_Reynolds kidnapped Catherine, suppressed and altered some of her memories, then air-dropped her into the poorest area of Cambodia, where she escaped her tail, eventually gave birth to her baby and struggled to survive. Back in New York, Vincent discovered a small band of former Muirfield agents who had escaped destruction and now sought to right the wrongs that had been done by that organization: Doctor Dawson Griggs, Kai (a linguist), and their computer geek, Sara, JT's former girlfriend! They helped find Catherine and return her and the daughter he didn't know she'd bore to New York. With Reynolds back in jail for his crimes, everything finally seems to be going their way, and their new little family struggles with normal life. Well, if only…. _

**Chapter 1**

_Take this kiss upon the brow!  
>And, in parting from you now,<br>Thus much let me avow  
>You are not wrong, who deem<br>That my days have been a dream;  
>Yet if hope has flown away<br>In a night, or in a day,  
>In a vision, or in none,<br>Is it therefore the less gone?  
>All that we see or seem<br>Is but a dream within a dream.  
>-From "Dream Within a Dream" by Edgar Alan Poe<em>

The thunder of footsteps behind her reverberated in the soft ground, causing her to stumble onto one knee. Fear drove her quickly to her feet again. Was there one? Three? A dozen? She didn't know and dared not look behind to see how close the pursuer was. That fraction of a second could cost her her life—if that's what he was after.

She mentally reset—that the one chasing her was a 'he' was only a guess from the ominous weight of its presence. 'Monster' was too inadequate word, but the only one that came to mind. It roared and she felt the heat of its molten breath scorch her jacket. Catherine tried to scream but opening her mouth produced nothing but a strangled noise. She sped toward the gate ahead, a small opening in the wall, but it was enough. It had to be. What lay beyond she didn't know or care. She only knew she absolutely had to reach it . . . or die trying.

A furlong before the gate, a fallen branch tripped her once again. She felt shooting pain as the skin of her knee broke open, but ignored it. _No._ She was so close! She struggled to get back up, to stand, to push onward, but there was no more time. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up as the sudden silence behind her filled the woods. One step and she'd either be consumed or safe.

_Move._ She willed her body to obey. Only a little bit further and she'd make it. But no. She was out of breath, out of energy. Out of time. This was it. She couldn't go on. Her legs had no more strength; her lungs, no more breath. He'd caught her.

Resigned, she straightened to face her tormentor and turned.

And screamed.

*

"Catherine, what is it?"

"What?" Heart still pounding as if it would leap from her chest, Catherine opened her eyes and squinted into the dark. Light from the hallway illuminated Vincent's face above hers, pushing the edges of her nightmarish vision aside. No monster. _Husband._

A crackle of sounds came from the baby monitor on the nightstand.

He pushed sweaty tendrils of her hair away from her face. "Nightmare again?"

How did he know? Had she cried out? She looked frantically around the room. Everything was as it should be. She looked back at him with a sigh of relief and sagged back down. "I guess so."

"It's okay. You're safe. You're home." His eyes were filled with concern, but when she nodded and relaxed, he sighed, as well. "That makes three nights in a row."

"Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with me," she said, trying for calm. "I promise you, I'm not worried about anything right now. Things are good."

A drop of sweat from her hair broke free and slid down into the now-deep valley between her breasts, belying her words—breasts now uncomfortably full of milk for their child. While it only tickled her, his eyes followed its trail, his tongue automatically dampening his lips before he swallowed, and she could see him work to recall the gist of their conversation.

"Probably just an after-effect of the treatment you received from Reynolds," he said, not very convincingly.

Catherine frowned. When her father had kidnapped her and spirited her out of the country almost a year ago, now, to 'protect' her, he'd taken the added measure of dosing her with something designed to not only wipe her memories but alter them. She'd spent the last few months back in country fighting the effects of that and rebuilding her memories and life with Vincent—the object of her father's most devastating suggestions. That her own flesh and blood had sought to turn her against the man she loved was bad enough, but to have taken away her precious memories of their relationship had been pure evil. Vincent had refused to let him win, though. And with the help of a team of ex-Muirfield scientists and their loving friends, Catherine had slowly regained everything.

They had wed in a simple civil ceremony and, with the baby daughter she'd delivered in captivity, finally begun their new life together as a family, minus all the threats they'd had in the past. This should be, at long last, a quiet, carefree time of love and laughter for them. Not one filled with monsters.

She tugged back up the bed covers which had dislodged in the night, her sweat starting to make her feel chilled, and turned into his warmth. "It's nothing—just a stupid dream. I'm sorry I woke you."

Vincent automatically curled a leg over her, pulling her close. "Don't worry about it. I just wish I could make them go away."

She smiled at him in the darkness. "I have an idea for that."

"Oh, yeah?"

She could almost see the creases in his cheeks deepen into dimples. Just then, the baby monitor squawked again.

"Uh-oh." She could hear the resignation in his voice. He started to get up.

"No, I'll get it," she said, and pushed up to sit. "I'm wide awake."

"What time is it?"

She looked over his shoulder to the illuminated dial of the alarm clock. "Four."

"She's early."

"Maybe I woke her up." Catherine pushed him back down when he started to rise with her. "I got this. You stay here. You've been putting in long days at the clinic. You need your rest. I'm just going to feed her and put her back down."

"Bring Abby in here. You'll rest easier."

It was true. Even one room away, Catherine still struggled with being unable to hear every little sound their three-month-old daughter made. For Vincent's and their relationship's sake, she'd put on a brave face, gritted her teeth, and put Abby down in the nursery each night. It was what most parents did, after all. But it was still so difficult.

She got the baby and brought her back into the bedroom. Vincent shifted over and set pillows behind her back so she could nurse. She quickly peeled down one sleeve of her gown and gasped as the baby immediately latched on. She should be used to it by now, but the strength with which Abby grabbed on to suck and the relief she felt with the letdown still surprised her.

Vincent propped his head up with one elbow and watched.

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Torturing yourself," Catherine said with a tired grin, feeling more relaxed.

He grinned back. "Yes, I am. And it's a sweet torture."

Catherine felt shy with her post-baby body. She tried to cover up. He stopped her.

"You still take my breath away. And I suspect you always will."

"But what about my scars?"

"Those are stretch marks and are totally natural. The fact that your body has changed because of carrying my child . . . is beautiful. It's like I left my mark on you." His lips parted at the baby's soft suckling sounds. Finally, he shifted onto his back, one powerful arm slung over his eyes.

"You know, Daws sent me to a patient the other day," he said, eyes still closed, "a young mother. Her child won't suckle. The baby isn't flourishing. We're still trying to determine why. It makes me so thankful when I look at Abigail."

"She's strong."

"Yes. Because her mother is strong. I'm still amazed you delivered her in that forgotten country all by yourself and we were able to bring you both home alive and well." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You are my miracles, both of you."

"You found us; that's all that matters."

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you, Catherine. For accepting me. For loving me. For giving me my beautiful daughter."

When Abby fell back to sleep after nursing, Vincent picked her up and took her back to the nursery, then returned to bed. Catherine, still drowsy, had only partially covered up.

As he pressed down onto the bed, she opened her eyes and saw the fire. For a moment she was back in the dream, running for her life. Then she remembered: _safe_. He growled low, his body responding to hers. Okay, not completely safe, but he would protect her even if it meant fighting himself.

Seeing her look, he grunted and started to pull away. "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay." She pulled him back. The heat that was obviously running through his veins now heated her own. She swallowed and looked at him shyly, knowing what he wanted but would never beg her for. "You know, I could really use a distraction right now."

He let out a breath that had _Thank you, God,_ written all over it and swooped down over her. "Oh, baby, you got it."

*

"Wow. Is she still not sleeping through the night? I thought you'd gotten Abby straightened out."

Cat sat across from Tess some hours later at the little café they enjoyed so much. The breakfast crowd was filling in. Good thing they got there early. "We did. Why?" She gave the sleeping baby in the sling across her chest an affectionate pat on the bottom.

"The dark circles under your eyes. You look like you haven't slept in a month."

"I do?" Catherine picked up the rounded blade of the tableware knife and peered into it. Tess tsked and offered her a compact mirror instead.

"You look absolutely beat."

"I've been having nightmares, actually. Plus, Vincent has been . . . attentive."

Tess cocked her head. "The nightmares I can understand. It hasn't been that long since you were trapped in Cambodia. I'm sure it will take a while for those to go away. But if Vincent's 'attentiveness' means something other than him helping you with the baby and other chores around the house, I think you need to have a serious talk with that man. He can't be demanding right now."

"I know. He's not. It's just . . . he's just being . . . Vincent. I was gone for a long time, Tess. His body isn't like other men's. His needs are . . . greater."

"Greater than once a day?"

Cat blushed and looked everywhere but at her best friend. "More like once an hour, in the night anyway."

"_What?!_"

"He's feels bad about it, he does. But how can I say no to him? I mean, I thought I'd lost some of my physical appeal after having given birth. I still have stretch marks and curves where there didn't used to be curves. But to Vincent, well . . . he thinks my body is sexier than ever. Go figure." She blushed again.

"I figure you better shut this down or you're going to collapse."

"There could be worse things, believe me. I'm sure all will get back to normal, soon. And it's not like I don't enjoy it. I just—"

"Okay. TMI. I've intruded far enough. But the point is, you need to reel this in, set some limits. At least for the time being until you get your strength back. If what my brother and their wives went through, once Abby starts walking, you're going to have years of physical exhaustion ahead of you."

Catherine laughed. "She's already crawling away from me—obviously an early starter."

"Well, perhaps that has something to do with her DNA. Have you had her tested yet?"

"No, but we will. I just don't see the point in doing it this soon. She's just a baby, Tess. What harm could she do? Besides, without Evan," her voice broke and she had to take a deep breath. "Without Evan and his expertise on DNA, where will we have it done?"

"I thought Daws and crew could handle that."

"As you well know," she grinned at her former partner who had finally given in to the handsome doctor's pursuit after insisting JT and Sara at least try to come to terms with their discovery of each other again. "Doctor Dawson Griggs is a specialist in a number of areas, none of which is DNA. Neither JT nor the others have that skill, either."

"Well, bummer. Too bad you didn't spare a geneticist when you toppled Muirfield and Reynolds' special company. With Gabe's girlfriend also out of the picture, that's kind of a big problem."

"We're working on it. There might be something in my mother's files that will help. In the meantime, life goes on like normal. It's just that this baby business is tougher than I thought."

"You need a break once in a while."

"Vincent and I are taking turns. But since we're both on day shifts, it's taking its toll."

"I'll make the offer again, then. I can handle that baby for an afternoon. Even overnight, if you need it."

Catherine sighed. "JT's made the same offer. But I don't know, Tess. It's difficult for me to let go. She's . . . special, you know? Maybe soon."

"Okay, well, when you're ready, let me know. She _is_ all kinds of adorable," Tess said, giving up for the time being.

The baby wiggled and opened her eyes. Catherine smiled down, ran a thumb down Abby's cheek and tapped her nose.

Tess sighed and leaned back to watch the tender motherly display-a far cry from whatever 'normal' used to mean. "Who would've thunk it, huh?"

Cat beamed up at her. "I know, right?"

*

Christopher Butler waited impatiently as Bob Reynolds was led into the 'meet and greet' room of New York's main jail complex on Rikers Island. They sat separated by a plexiglass window. As soon as Reynolds sat, he picked up the phone.

"What?" Reynolds asked without preamble.

Butler seemed unruffled. He was no doubt giddy that his boss and mentor was back behind bars as it meant more freedom for him—something he knew Butler had been chafing at the bit for, for some time. If only the man knew that no one would trust him. At least he still held that card. Not that Butler knew it, himself. He almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

"We finally heard from Chen," he reported. "He just passed on the information that Catherine had been rescued in some kind of a black ops mission."

Reynolds snorted. "Leave it to Chen to finally figure out what the rest of the world already knows." A muscle in his cheek twitched. Chen had been their operative on the ground in Cambodia, and the one who had initially captured Catherine where they'd dropped her in country. The incompetent agent was supposed to have kept an eye on her, but she'd slipped away from him early on. He'd spent the next six months trying to find her again. Too little, too late. "I'd sure like to know how _they _found her before him." The 'they' meaning Vincent and crew. "But it hardly matters now. Next time he's in town, send him to me. I want to give him a piece of my mind."

"I'll be sure to pass that along." Butler grinned. Chen's fate was no concern of his. "Learned one important detail from him, though, I think you'll find rather fascinating. I know I do."

Bob looked up at his smug tone. "What's that?"

Butler leaned in close. "He believes Catherine definitely gave birth while in country," he said in a hushed voice. "Said he found evidence a child named Abigail was born to a woman matching Catherine's description shortly before she was rescued. He's checking on the details now."

Bob Reynolds went cold. His mind bent on the name Abigail and a spike of adrenalin stabbed through him. What had Catherine said the day they took General Allyn and his zombie beast army down? _That at least Abigail was safe._ Could it be true? Catherine had given birth to a daughter? His grandchild? He silently seethed. He'd rather hoped she'd miscarried. With what they'd put her through, she should have. That Butler and Chen had that knowledge now didn't bode well. It wouldn't do to have that secret out. He feigned a bored look to cover his worry. "So? Come back when you have some real news. There are ten thousand babies born every year to women in that country."

"Sure. But if it's true, you know what this means?"

Bob leveled what he hoped was an uninterested glare at his former right-hand man.

"If Catherine gave birth, that baby is a first-generation beast."

He had to at least look somewhat intrigued. "Possibly."

"Want me to bring her in?"

"Catherine? Absolutely not. Don't touch her. She's my daughter. If anyone is going to get the truth out of her, it'll be me."

At the determined look on his former boss's face, Butler reneged. A battle for another day. "Sure. Just thought I'd pass on the rumor."

Bob stood and signaled to the guard that his conversation was over. "Never bring rumors to me, Butler. You know better than that."

After Reynolds was escorted back to his cell, Christopher Butler passed through the final security door and pressed a button on his iphone. A male voice answered right away. "See if you can track down Cherri Ellison for me. Pronto."

*

"So this is it."

Sara stepped inside the large main room that made up the gentlemen's club and looked around. "Interesting. The whole place yours?"

"Well, from time to time Vincent has lived here. Even Blaise."

"The man who recently had eye surgery?"

"Right. Tori's . . . partner. He was actually completely blind before the procedure. Used to be homeless, too." JT laughed nervously. Now that his former girlfriend and earth sciences professor-colleague had been discovered to be one of Reynolds' former inductees at his post-Muirfield operation, they were still getting reacquainted. It was awkward at best.

She nodded. "You have an odd assortment of friends, JT. From an overly involved Assistant District Attorney, to cops, an heiress, a super-soldier and the homeless. It's strange. I always pegged you as the studious professor-type who enjoyed the quiet life."

"In my dreams. Yeah, well, I didn't sign up for this life. It just sort of found me."

"As mine found me."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He blurted it out before he could stop himself.

Sara looked up, surprised. "I still haven't even told my own parents. It's not something you share."

"I seem to remember you yelling at me for not coming to dinner to meet your parents." At her look, he continued. "The truth is, I had beast issues right then."

"You did?"

"Gabriel Lowen wanted me for a snack. I was fortunate to escape with my life. After that, I realized there was no way I could bring you into that world."

"And yet I was already in it," she said without heat. "You know, you were the first normal guy I'd tried to bring home."

"So much for normal, huh?"

"Don't say that, JT. Despite everything, to me, you're as normal as normal gets."

He laughed. "Not sure if that's a good thing or not."

"Believe me, it's a good thing." She put her purse down on the entryway table and looked around. "You know, I really don't want to step on anyone's toes here. You're obviously in another relationship now—"

"We don't . . . really know where we're at."

"Oh. Well, all the more reason for me not to come in between, but – I don't know if I should tell you, but Daws has eyes for your partner."

"Tess is not my partner. We just work together. It's . . . complicated."

She nodded. That was a fact.

They stared at each other a moment, silently acknowledging that things were never as they seemed. Finally, she lifted her hands in surrender. "No judgments here."

"Good. Likewise."

Feeling more at ease now that that was all out in the open, Sara took a big breath and looked around. "It's a nice place."

JT shrugged, also happy to move beyond that awkward beginning. "It's become home. Here, take a look at our 'hub.'" He walked her over to the bank of high-powered computers. "Of course, it probably doesn't rival what you've got at your place." 'Your place' meaning the small technology center at the after-hours clinic Dawson Griggs, Kai, and she had established with discarded and other-wise pieced-together old Muirfield equipment. "But we do what we can."

"Ah. Now _this _is what I call home." She ran her hand over the keyboard of the main computer.

JT started to smile then spotted the half empty bowl of stale chips. He scooped it up along with two coffee mugs, a water bottle, and an empty bag of gummy worms. "Uh, sorry. I wasn't expecting company so soon. Can I . . . can I get you something to drink?"

She smiled. "A beer would be nice."

"Beer?" He let out a sigh of relief. "I can do that. One sec."

*

"When you said dinner and dancing, this isn't exactly what I was expecting." Tess came to a halt in front of the club and looked at Daws.

"What? I guy like me can't have a little fun? Have you ever even tried it?"

Tess let him pull her into the venue after purchasing their tickets. "I think I saw this in a movie once. Didn't even know they had one in New York."

"Hey, this is a happening place, and I'm a happening guy."

She laughed. "Whoa. Hold the clotted cream. It's getting a little thick in here."

He laughed and grabbed her hand. "C'mon. It'll be fun. Loosen you up."

"I don't need _loosening_, thank you very much."

"The hell you don't. A couple of Jell-O shots and once you get into it, you'll definitely appreciate what it can do for your spirit."

"My spirit's just fine, but it won't be if I ruin these clothes. I'm not dressed for . . . this." She peered up at the black-lighted stage filled with paint splattered drums with no small amount of trepidation.

"Don't worry," he said, tugging her along after him. "They provide full-body smocks."

"Oh, perfect."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

JT strategically placed the handful of electrodes on a shirtless Vincent before sitting down at his computer to study the screen. "Feels like old times, huh?" He smirked.

"Thanks for the memories, bro-_not_" Vincent laughed. "I could do without the reminder of what happened the last time you had to do this."

"I'm just humoring you this time. With no blackouts or memory loss, I hardly think your heightened desire for your wife—especially since it hasn't been that long since you got her back—is anything to worry about."

"Don't forget the sleeplessness."

"Typical new daddy syndrome, I'd assume."

"Never assume anything with me. I'm hardly your typical new daddy, JT."

"No. That's for sure," he said and looked thoughtfully at his friend. "Maybe the baby is affecting you? You know, like Tori did at first."

Vincent frowned deeply.

"Just a possibility. But seriously, you seem fine to me."

"It's just that . . . I finally have my family together, JT, and things are good—calm. I don't want anything to rock the boat, you know?"

"I think you're over-reacting, but I'll run some tests. We can never be completely certain with you."

"Just do what you can. Last resort, I'll go see Daws."

"Because maybe it's all in your head?"

Vincent glared at him. "Possibly, yeah."

"What we really need is someone who specializes in genetics. Even with Dawson, he and I can only do so much."

"Yeah, well, I think we cut off that bridge a long time ago when we obliterated Muirfield and Reynolds' organization in one fell swoop."

"Guess you should have thought about that beforehand."

"No way. And I'm not going to spend a second of my life regretting putting an end to any of it."

"Fine. But does anyone believe Reynolds' machinations ever truly disappear?"

"Good point."

JT nodded in agreement, then switched fluidly from nagging buddy to bio-chemistry professor with a smattering of medical training. In the end, what mattered to Vincent mattered to him and always would. He checked his vitals, took some blood samples and every other reading he could possibly take. When he'd done all that, he said, "It may take a while to analyze the results. I'll call you."

"Thanks, bro."

Before Vincent could finish buttoning his shirt, they heard a sharp rap on the door then Blaise, in typical Blaise fashion, burst through it. "Hey!"

JT's arms came up. "Does anyone realize this is my home? Geez."

Blaise just grinned.

JT frowned in amused disgust. As annoying as the guy could be with his perpetually upbeat countenance, it was difficult to stay truly angry at him for any darn thing.

"Whoa. I didn't interrupt something, did I?" Blaise asked, looking between them, and then squinted more carefully at Vincent's open shirt and rock hard abs. "Vin, dude, you know you could be a model for one of those workout mags!"

Vincent quickly pulled his shirt closed. "Thanks for the idea, but I've got a job now, thank you very much."

Blaise shrugged, fully aware of how happy Vincent was to be practicing medicine again, limited in scope as it was. "Just sayin'…"

"Well, don't."

"What are you here for, anyway?" JT asked him.

Blaise shrugged again. "Can't a guy hang with his buds on a Saturday afternoon?" He flung himself down onto the sofa. "I'm bored."

"Translation," JT offered. "Tori is driving you crazy."

"The woman needs an occupation!" Blaise blurted out. "She's triple cleaning what she already cleaned. I barely escaped with my life!" He switched on the big screen and searched through the sports channels, then threw down the remote in disgust when he found nothing to watch.

Vincent laughed. "Maybe she needs to go back to school—learn a trade?"

Blaise slapped his knee and looked up. "You know, that's not a bad idea! Actually, she wanted me to ask you if she could do anything for you and Cat. You know, give you a break with the kid."

Vincent's head came up. "Really?"

"I don't think so," JT answered for him and Vincent's head snapped around.

"She's not going to eat Abby or anything, you know," Blaise said defensively. "She just wants to help."

JT frowned deeply but Vincent looked thoughtful. "You guys thinking of trying again?"

"Not yet. But I think Tors wants to get a better feel for what's involved in taking care of a baby. You'd be doing her a favor—both of us."

"I think that's a bad idea," JT said, shaking his head.

"I'll talk to Catherine about it," Vincent voiced at the same time.

"Cool." Blaise stood up. "Well, I gotta git."

"Now where are you off to? You just got here!" Both men looked askance at him.

"Places to see, things to do!" he said, and was out the door before either man could reply.

JT turned to Vincent and shook his head. "That guy is seriously whacked."

Vincent clapped him on the back. "Must be that bump on the head. Don't worry about it. Nothing wrong with being too happy. We could all use a big dose of that. And don't be such a mother. Both Tori and Blaise would defend Abby with their lives."

"If you say so."

"I do." With that, Vincent put on his jacket, too, and started to leave. Then spotted the orange tabby in the corner. "Since when have you gotten a pet?"

JT glanced over to the corner. "Oh, that?"

"_That?_ Don't you even know if it's a boy or a girl? C'mere kitty . . ." The cat backed up in response.

"I didn't feel the need. It's just a stray. I don't even feed it—it just sneaks in when I'm not looking and sneaks back out when it wants to. It's not like I have an attachment or anything."

JT—a true eccentric. Vincent laughed and shook his head as the cat skittered away. Although he and Catherine had joked about having a dog one day, he and other animals generally didn't get along too well. He saluted his friend and headed out—and gave some thought to Blaise's offer. Catherine would find it difficult to let go, but maybe if they did it in small amounts . . . .

* * *

><p>Doctor Dawson Griggs leaned over the computer screen that Sara was sharing. Kai did the same. "Who is it?"<p>

"I'm not sure," she said. "I've never seen her before. But I've got the facial recognition software working on it."

"She looks familiar," Kai said.

"Yeah, I agree. Question is, what is Butler up to?" On Catherine and Vincent's request, the team had been tracking all of Reynolds' visitors—so far the only one of which had been his former right-hand man, Christopher Butler.

Just then the other computer dinged. "We've got a hit," Sara said, and turned the screen to them.

"Doctor C. H. Ellison?" Kai said. "Don't know her."

"This says she's a consultant for Quantum Paradigm Labs."

"Physicist?" Dawson asked.

"No. Geneticist."

His eyebrows lifted. "Interesting. Ellison. That name rings a bell." He shivered. "Wait." Dawson moved closer to read the second screen. "No way."

"What is it?"

"Dr. Ellison." Daws rubbed his chin.

"Are you thinking of Dr. Graham Ellison?" Kai asked. "Could there be a connection?"

"One of Muirfield's legends, yes. And with Reynolds, there's _always _a connection."

"Ellison died when Muirfield was destroyed—without a doubt," Kai said forcefully. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"True. He had a daughter, if I remember right, although I never met her. Followed in her father's footsteps, but she wasn't Muirfield."

"That we know of," Sara countered.

"Any way this could be her?" Dawson asked.

"I'll do some more digging," Sara offered and started up several search engines.

Daws pulled Kai aside. "This could be bad."

Kai nodded. "If she's not Muirfield, what's the connection to Butler and Reynolds? On the other hand, if she was never recruited, maybe we can trust her? Or bring her over to our side?"

"Possibly, but it would be risky. Get hold of Vincent and Catherine. Or JT. One of them. We need to figure out what Butler is up to—and fast."

* * *

><p>Vincent finished his rounds at the hospital. As he only had a few patients yet, it was still light out, but he felt edgy at the thought of going home and being with Catherine alone. He decided first to stop by the clinic. JT had already phoned him with the results of his blood tests and all—everything seemed 'normal.' That word again. If only.<p>

Knowing Catherine would hold dinner for him, he should go straight there, but this was too heavy on his mind. He needed some answers. If not, he could be putting her and Abigail at risk. And that he would never do.

"Not just a social call, then?"

"Not this time. I've been feeling . . . aggressive, uptight. Having insomnia."

"If I remember right, you never did sleep much."

"True, but this is different. Catherine says I growl in my sleep and wake up very . . . wound up."

"Wound up? As in . . ."

"As in, I'm all over her. Too much, too often. There's no let-up. She's exhausted as it is. She doesn't need that kind of attention, but I'm having trouble controlling it."

"And JT's tests—"

"All normal—from what he can tell. I thought perhaps you could do more brain scans."

"Sure, sure. Work is not a problem?"

"Work? No, not at all. It's where I feel most at peace."

Dawson frowned. "Interesting. Okay, well, we'll do some scans. See what they tell us. If there's any kind of abnormality, we'll find it."

"What about my DNA?"

"JT explained what happened last time, but says your symptoms are different."

"Doesn't mean anything."

"True. Not with you." The doctor sighed. "Maybe it's time we broaden our contacts."

"Meaning?"

"Bring someone new in—someone with the technical skills you need."

"No way."

"Hey, if we put our heads together, we could think of a likely scenario that wouldn't expose you or Abigail."

"There would be too many questions."

"Maybe. And maybe eventually we could trust her."

"Her?"

"Come into the other room with me for a minute. I want to show you something." Dawson led him over to the bank of computers and pulled up Dr. Ellison's photo.

"Who is she?"

"A geneticist. The FBI uses her on occasion for special cases."

"She doesn't look familiar."

"She shouldn't. As far as we know, other than her work for the FBI, she's had no connection to Reynolds. Until now."

"_What?_ What's he up to?"

"That's what we'd like to find out. His henchman, Butler, was seen visiting this woman recently." He showed him the photo of the two entering a coffee shop, picked up by a traffic camera across the street.

"If they're interested in her, then we should be, too, but not for the reasons you're thinking," Vincent stated.

"True. But she needs investigating. She has a legitimate practice and was hurt by Muirfield, Keller. Maybe we'll get lucky and find that she's one of the good guys."

Vincent frowned deeply and stared at the photo. Unlikely, but every minute spent with Dawson and the gang was making him more hopeful.

He stared at the photo again. The woman was young, possibly near Catherine's age. He got Dawson to print it out and took it home to his wife.

* * *

><p>Dr. Cherrie Ellison stood over her bathroom counter and breathed. She felt sick to her stomach and her joints ached terribly. Converting back was always the worst part. She watched as the tiny gold hairs on her arms and face slowly receded. Sweat trickled down her body, chilling her now naked skin. She grabbed a nearby bathrobe and put it on. Then the coughing started. She choked and finally coughed up a small ball: hair. <em>Ick.<em>

She really should find a better host, but cats—she looked back into her apartment at her small brood of felines—were the easiest and most readily at hand. And they made moving around unobserved relatively easy. As long as she didn't encounter any dogs. She shivered, took a sip of water, and checked her watch. Eight and a half hours today. It wasn't the longest she'd been out, but it was still amazing. If only she could tell the world—they'd hail her as the next Marie Curie. If only the world were ready. It wasn't.

She thought briefly of her father. The notes she'd found of his after his death had been her jumping off point. If only she'd appreciated him more when he was alive. How proud would he be of his little girl now? She started to tear up, but swiped at her eyes. No time for that.

Eight and a half hours. It was good but not enough. And as much as she dared risk being out and about until she found a better stabilizing agent. This time, she'd had some trouble on the way home and had made it back with barely enough time.

She took another deep breath and sagged over the sink. Regardless, it was a very successful venture. It had taken no time at all to get back into that old club and snoop around. Butler was right. Something fishy was going on. Of course, she wouldn't tell him. She planned to make up her own mind on the situation before agreeing to anything. This time she'd gotten an eyeful. Not only was Keller there for some kind of medical work-up, but the man, himself, was out-of-this-world gorgeous. Investigations would definitely continue.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Sorry, all, for the lateness of this chapter. RL intruded again. Spent all day yesterday in the ER with my husband who apparently has a kidney stone-not fun! Hope this will hold you over... xx_

**Chapter 3**

"What do you want for dinner?" Catherine positioned Abigail in the front of the cart and started heading down the first aisle.

"Whatever you want."

"Vincent, that doesn't help me."

"I'm good with whatever you want to fix."

"Fine, but since I'm out of ideas for tonight, I need some help."

"Oh. Sorry. I thought I was giving you the choice."

"Thank you. I always appreciate your thoughtfulness, but it's okay to have an opinion and express it once in a while."

He shrugged. "Okay, but I like everything you cook." Seeing her look, he changed tactics. "Or . . . I could barbeque. How about steak?"

She twisted her lips. "Too expensive. We have to start watching our budget, remember?"

He frowned. He finally had a legitimate job and still it wasn't enough. Catherine continued to consult and brought in a decent amount, but one of them had to be home with Abby at all times. Welcome to the real world. "Chicken?" he finally suggested.

"We've had chicken three times this week already."

"Something with hamburger, then? I know, let's just pick up some burgers."

"I don't want Abby to get used to us eating fast food."

He threw up his arms. It wasn't like their infant daughter was going to join them in the meal, although Catherine _was _still breastfeeding. His frustration level rose just a notch. "I thought you wanted me to choose. Tell you what, you pick it out, and I'll cook it—whatever it is."

The baby started to fuss. Catherine sighed and stopped the cart. "Let's just forget it. I'm not that hungry, and it's almost time for her nap. If she goes down any later, then you know she won't sleep tonight." She pulled the baby from the cart.

"Yeah, this definitely isn't working." He frowned at the idea of not getting dinner. Maybe JT had something to eat . . . .

"It's just that . . . this parenthood-thingy is more difficult than I thought," she said, trying the calm the situation down. "I mean, how do single moms do it? Feed the baby, change the baby, put the baby down for a nap, clean the house, do the dishes—not to mention the laundry—"

"And some hold down jobs, too. Listen. I have an idea. I'll take you two home. You can put her down for a nap right now, then I'll come back here for supplies, myself, and fix you dinner at home. A surprise. What do you think?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

* * *

><p>After dinner, Catherine seemed more relaxed. "I didn't mean to jump at you earlier."<p>

"I know."

"I'm just worn out."

"I know."

"It's not like either of us have grandparents begging to take Abby for an afternoon or anything."

Sad, but true. Vincent bit his tongue to keep from saying anything derogatory about her only living parent—Bob Reynolds. A normal grandparent he was _not_. Not that he even knew about Abigail—a very big blessing. "No, but we do have friends."

"Who? Tess? She has offered to help, but you know she's not a kid person."

"Says who? Regardless, Tess is a cop. She's extremely capable. She could handle an infant for a few hours."

"But how could I ask something like that of her?"

"Because she's your best friend—you have a right to ask. If she doesn't want to do it, she knows how to say no. Give her some credit."

"I know, but—"

"We have another option, you know."

"Thing One and Thing Two?"

"Hey, don't be mean. Tori and Blaise have offered to take her a number of times. Blaise even reminded me of that just the other day. They sincerely want to help. Besides, I believe they're rethinking their decision not to have any children. At least they'd like to get some experience first."

"They are not experimenting with parenthood using my child!"

"_Our _child."

"Of course. I didn't mean anything by that."

"I know. Sorry." He swung around on the couch, took her face in his hands, and kissed her on the forehead. "Look. Saturday is coming up. What do you say we invite them over for the afternoon? They can get to know Abby, spend some time with her, see how they gel."

"While we're still here?"

"At least one of us, yes."

"I guess we could do that."

"We can do the same with Tess sometime soon, too."

She twisted her lips, still resistant, but it was a good plan. They needed to do _something_. "All right. Call them."

"You sure?"

"No. But I'm willing to try anything. I know you're as exhausted as I am. I feel bad going off to work even for half a day."

"You know I'm fine with it. Like you said, normal doesn't come easy. We've got to pay the bills just like everyone else."

* * *

><p>That having been decided, the very next morning Catherine was called in to the precinct unexpectedly, leaving Abby with Vincent until late afternoon. When the doorbell rang at 3pm he had formula heating as he was waiting impatiently for the clothes to finish because they were out of diapers. The baby had just started crying in the nursery, having awakened early from her nap. He grabbed her up and ran to the door. Obviously, Catherine had her hands full and couldn't manage her keys. So relieved she'd returned, he jerked open the door with a giant smile. It quickly died.<p>

"Oh. It's only you."

"Thanks. You were expecting . . . ?"

"Catherine. But you'll do. Here." He put the baby into Tess's arms without a second thought and ran into the kitchen.

"Whoa! Wait." Tess held the baby at arm's length, then realized that was a bad strategy. Abby looked up at her without recognition and started screwing up her face for a scream. "Oh, no, no, no. It's okay, baby. It's Tess, remember me? Vincent! Where are you?"

"Just a minute, I've got to finish this. Dang it. I let it heat too long. Now it has to cool off."

Tess followed him into the kitchen. "Where's Cat?"

"Wasn't she with you? They called her into the precinct. It's laundry day and I forgot. I ran out of diapers."

At that, Tess held the baby away from her again.

"She has on the last clean one."

"Oh."

"But it's taking forever for the dryer to finish."

"You want me to run to the store and pick up some disposables for you?"

"No! Don't leave me. Besides, Catherine would ring my neck. She likes the cloth ones better."

"Well, there _is _something to be said for convenience. We _are _living in the modern age, you know."

"Tell that to Catherine."

"I think I'll stay out of it."

"Good plan. Are you okay with her for a few more minutes? I need to run to the back room."

"I'm . . ." she looked down at the baby who had noticed her gold necklace. "We're fine—for the moment. Go. Quickly."

He was gone a few more minutes than he said, but finally reappeared with bib and blanket in hand. "I thought Catherine would be back by now. I just got a call from the hospital. I need to check on a patient."

"What? Have you tried calling Cat?"

"She didn't answer. She may still be in her meeting."

"Well," Tess swallowed, uncomfortable but willing to volunteer for her friends' sake. "I guess I could—"

The doorbell rang again.

"Maybe that's her now!" She hurried for the door.

"You?"

"JT?"

Taking in the unusual but endearing sight of Tess with a baby in her arms, JT's mouth dropped to the floor.

"I'm just holding Abby for a minute," Tess stammered, and looked helplessly toward the hallway where Vincent had disappeared again. He came around the corner just then.

"JT! Perfect!" he cried.

"What? Why? I just came by to see if you wanted to watch the game together, but I see you don't have it on."

"Game? What game?"

"Whoa. I never I thought I'd hear those words out of your mouth. Never mind, dude. You're obviously otherwise distracted."

"JT, could you stay with Tess and Abby for a little bit—just until Catherine returns? I need to run to the hospital. A patient is coming out of surgery and I need to be there."

"Wait. What? Tess and—"

"It's just for a short time."

Tess gave him a don't-you-dare-leave-me-here-alone look.

"But I—I—I—"

"Thanks, buddy! Tess, here's her bottle. She'll be fine until her next diaper change. The laundry should be finished by then. After she's done, just pat her gently on the back for a few minutes. Don't worry if she burps it up—sometimes she gets a bubble." At her alarmed look, he quickly went on. "There are some toys in the corner that she likes a lot. Or you could read to her. I'll be back just as soon as I can!"

Before either Tess or JT could object, he was out the door. They looked dumbfounded at one another.

"What just happened?"

"Oh, goodie. Just what I'd planned to do this afternoon." JT folded his arms accusingly.

"Don't blame this on _me_! I just stopped by to see if Cat wanted to go shopping."

"Great. But what am I supposed to do? I don't know anything about—" he looked at the baby with a frown that made Abby start to cry, "that."

Tess soothed the baby. "Don't listen to him, Abigail. He's just a fussy-pants." To JT she said, "You don't have to do anything. I'll do . . . whatever needs to be done. Just stay with me. I haven't had to deal with a baby since my oldest brother had his last one—several years ago. I'm a little out of practice. Besides, Vincent said it would only be for a short time and Cat should be here any minute."

"Famous last words."

"Turn on the game if you want to. Maybe the noise will be soothing to her."

"It's hockey."

"Oh. Forget that idea, then. Here, read this." She handed him a baby care book.

JT stared at it for a moment then plopped down onto the sofa. "I suppose _one _of us had better read the instruction manual," he said, and started flipping through the pages.

* * *

><p>Catherine came home an hour later to find Tess and JT calmly sitting on the living room floor with Abby between them, cooing and gurgling. They were smiling and laughing and good-naturedly fighting over who Abby likes better. She stared at the scene, dumbfounded. "Tess? JT! What on earth? Where's Vincent?"<p>

"Who?" They turned in unison.

"Very funny." She took Abby up in her arms. The baby automatically reached for her hair, which had been cut to shoulder length some time back to make it easier to deal with.

"He had to run to the hospital to see a patient after surgery. Said you'd be back any minute, but that was an hour ago," Tess offered, a slight twist to her lips.

"So he called _you_—both of you?"

"Uh, no. I just stopped by," JT said.

"Me, too. It was just a coincidence."

The pair smiled at each other secretively, but Catherine caught it. _Interesting_. Last she'd heard, JT was seeing Sara again, and Daws had asked Tess out on a second date. She mentally shook herself. Now was not the time to be wondering about that. "Well, thank you so much. I was suddenly called in to work. I don't know what we would have done without your help."

"Something you might want to give some thought to for the future," Tess gently reprimanded. "They have something called babysitters, you know."

Catherine remembered she'd used the neighbor and her daughter once, but that had been a true emergency. "Sure, but . . . once of us is usually here."

Tess walked over and smoothed a hand over Abby's dark, silky hair. "Well, we got along just fine, so if you need someone in a pinch, don't be afraid to ask me, or—us." She looked uncertainly at JT, who nodded.

"Okay . . . I'll try to remember that. Thank you."

"I took the clean diapers out of the dryer and stacked them in the nursery, by the way, so you're all set."

"Wow. Thanks."

"And we fed her an hour ago, so she's probably ready for another nap again soon."

Catherine smirked at her friend. It was a different side of Tess she wasn't used to seeing. She guessed, coming from a large family, it was to be expected, but still. She recalled the time they'd gotten passes to the hotel pool and how Tess had balked at sharing it with a young family. Times had definitely changed—for all of them. When had it happened?

"Anyway, I should get going now." Tess stood.

"Me, too," JT said. "Tell Vincent I'll call him later."

"Sure, but—" When Tess started for the door, Catherine put a hand on her arm. "Do you have to run off so soon? I just got home. Can't you stay and chat awhile?"

Tess looked at JT. He gave her a look that Catherine couldn't help but wonder at, then tossed her a grin and a wave and left. Tess turned back to Cat.

"You stopped by for something, obviously."

"It wasn't important." She sat back down on the couch. "Sure, I can stay for a bit."

"You still haven't spilled on all the details of your date with Daws. I'm all ears." Catherine spoke in a low voice, even though JT was long gone.

Tess looked everywhere but at her. "It was . . . great, actually. We had a lot of fun."

"And?"

"And that was all."

"Really? That's all I'm going to get?"

Tess shot a look at the door through which JT had just left before meeting Cat's eyes. "For now. I still don't know how I feel about it—all this, you know? I can't help feeling like I'm cheating or something."

Cheating was something Tess understood, at least. But this was a different situation altogether. "On JT? You can't cheat on someone you're not currently with."

"Tell that to my heart."

_Very _interesting. Cat gave up with a laugh. "Okay. Well, I guess you'll tell me more when you're ready. I, um, I hope this afternoon wasn't too awkward, though."

"Not at all. He was a big help. We're still . . . friends, you know—no matter what happens."

Meaning, no matter where their other relationships lead. Well, that was good news indeed. "I'm glad. We love you both, you know. I'd hate for there to be awkwardness when we all get together."

"Absolutely no awkwardness here."

"Fantastic. So, why did you stop by?"

Tess waved it off. "I was feeling in the mood for a new pair of shoes. But also, Dawson—I mean, Doctor Griggs," she quickly amended, "mentioned there was someone of interest he wanted you to see."

"Cherrie Ellison?"

"Oh. I thought it was pronounced like Sherrie. Wait—how did you know about her?"

"It's pronounced cherry—like the fruit. Vincent brought home her photo the other night. Yes, she's an old friend, actually—very old. We used to play together as kids. She lost her mom before I did. After that, we really kind of bonded. But that was a long time ago. I haven't seen her in years."

"How did you two end up being playmates?"

"Her father was . . . he worked with my mom."

"At Muirfield."

Catherine frowned. "So? Just like me, Cherrie was never involved—I know that for a fact, Tess. As soon as she graduated high school, Dr. Ellison sent her across the country to study medicine. As it was shortly after her mother passed, I think he found being a single parent difficult. Anyway, I only saw her a few times after that."

"How did her mother die?"

"Cancer, if I remember right. Why? Are you suspecting foul play or something? Tess, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. Dr. Ellison may have been a Muirfield scientist, but it seemed like he loved his wife, and his daughter was just a shy, geeky girl who loved animals. You _can _be a Muirfield brat and still be normal. Besides, Cherrie didn't have the temperament to be one of Muirfield's goons."

"Well, she eventually became a geneticist just like her father, although we've found no connection between her and any of Reynolds' operations so far, thank God, other than she occasionally consults for the FBI."

"As do I now. And you won't. I remember her telling me privately that she and her dad never got along, so I can't imagine she knew anything about his work. She was very angry with him after her mom's death. They . . . parted ways on unfriendly terms."

"And not because she blamed him?"

"Tess . . ."

"I'm just trying to figure out the connection. Anyway, Butler's meeting with her is curious, isn't it? Worth looking into.

"And I think you're going to find nothing, but I suppose you're right—I could give her a call. Now that we're plugged into the FBI once in a while, ourselves, I could say I came across her name and wanted to touch base again."

"Hmm. A plausible excuse, I suppose, but I'm nervous about exposing you, Vincent, or Abigail to anyone like that."

Catherine looked down at the baby in her arms. She looked so normal, and yet they all knew the possibility of that was very small. Could Cherrie Ellison be the same way? She shrugged. "I wouldn't have to mention anything about them."

* * *

><p>Dr. Cherrie Ellison studied the log in front of her, then stared out the window, lost in thought, recalling the first meeting she'd had with Christopher Butler in her office the week before. He'd showed up unannounced with a blood sample for her to test.<p>

She'd studied the small vial in her hands and looked over the rim of her glasses at him. "Whose is it?"

"Not _who _so much as . . . _what_," he'd said calmly.

"Excuse me? I thought you said this was human blood—is it from an animal?"

"Just take a look. I think you'll be intrigued."

She'd put the vial firmly down onto the desk. "Mr. Butler, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I don't have the time. Take your sample and go. I have a horrendous schedule this week overseeing a project that could literally change the way major diseases are fought. I don't have time to—"

"It's a hybrid."

"What?"

"Blood from a natural, living, human-animal hybrid."

She'd looked at the vial again. "Is that a joke? You know that isn't possible."

"Isn't it? If you say so—you're the expert. But I'd take a look if I were you."

That had been the start. What Butler didn't know—and there was no possible way he could (although a frisson of doubt kept sneaking its way into her veins) was that she'd been studying the plausibility of human-animal hybrids for years—ever since she'd discovered her father's secret documents after he was killed. And it was _very _possible. She was living proof. A natural one, though . . . .

Before Butler had left, he'd also dropped some info she suspected was highly classified—that the military had experimented years ago on U.S. soldiers in an attempt to make the first super-soldiers using cross-species DNA—and one of those men was still alive and living in New York City! She'd long suspected that's where her father's work had been headed, but hadn't had actual confirmation. Now, after having seen the man Butler pointed her to, she was beyond intrigued.

She'd let him leave the vial and then took it home instead of using Paradigm's labs. If it was something unusual that correlated with her private work, she couldn't risk someone seeing the test results there.

Now, after having confirmed it with her own instruments, it was time to decide just what to do about it. Butler hadn't made his purpose known yet—he was just baiting her. It was working. She was extremely curious now.

Problem was, the blood he'd given her was from a female, not a male, and the DNA didn't have the manufactured hallmarks she was used to seeing in her own blood. So he hadn't lied. It was from a true hybrid, the way Butler suggested-a natural born hybrid.

With her cell alarm reminding her she was past due for a meeting, she sat at her desk and stared out the window. What could the FBI be up to? Butler was a familiar face—she'd had some minor dealings with him over the years, mostly in reference to special projects he wasn't able to divulge the specifics of—typical FBI modus operandi. It always stunk of something nefarious—and that reminded her of her father. She'd tried her best to avoid it. This time it would be impossible. Or maybe not.

Before any decisions were made, more stealthy research was needed—that much was sure—and another visit to the 'lair.' Perhaps she could get a look at J.T. Forbes' research notes—he was bound to have them lying around somewhere. And if she was really lucky, she could follow the super-soldier home. He must be connected to the female somehow.

She leaned back and put the heel of her black, serviceable pumps on the window ledge. She smiled. She had a million questions for Butler, none of which she could ask outright. Hopefully, answers would come in time. Butler thought he'd use her. She, instead, would use him, and possibly be able to further her own research along. With the sample he'd given her, she'd already discovered a few intriguing things. What he didn't know was just how far her own research had already taken her. If only he knew . . . .

* * *

><p>"So . . . Vincent said you decided to take some classes?" Catherine passed a bib and blanket to Tori, who sat on the floor with Blaise and the baby in the living room.<p>

"I thought I should. I never finished my degree, after all." Tori glared at Vincent. "Something interrupted it."

Vincent put up his hands. "Hey, it wasn't all my fault." That he'd killed her father in order to protect her was water long under the bridge, but she was obviously still sensitive about it. Yes, her life had certainly been disrupted, but if they hadn't found her, where would she be now?

"Tors . . ." Blaise warned.

"I'm just saying. Anyway, I'd been working on my MBA. I thought I'd see what I have left to do. I still have some insurance money tucked away. It's time to put it to good use. Perhaps someday Blaise and I will start our own business."

"Oh? What type of business?" Cat asked, trying not to jump in when Abby started to fuss.

"Something philanthropic," Blaise immediately responded and took Abby up in his arms. She immediately quieted.

"Something profitable," Tori said at the same time.

Vincent and Catherine both laughed. "Perhaps you need more time to think about it."

"I guess so."

As meetings went, it wasn't bad. Tori seemed a little awkward with Abby at first, but she soon warmed up to the task. Blaise was a natural. After an hour, Catherine even felt confident enough to suggest Vincent go and get in a jog. He hesitated for no more than a second.

Outside, the air was still nippy, but he liked cold weather for jogging the best. The city was quiet and so was his heart.

On his return route he noticed the cat.

"Hey," he said to it, as if it would answer. "Aren't you the same cat I saw at JT's?"

In response, the cat actually appeared to flinch, but continued following him.

"Go back home. I don't need another mouth to feed."

At that, the cat stopped and stared up at him for a moment.

"I mean it. You may be cute, but you need to find yourself another benefactor." With that, he sped up, hopefully leaving the furry feline far behind.

* * *

><p>Cherrie paused on each level of the fire escape, studying the interior of each apartment. Every unit was either dark or obviously the wrong one. Finally she reached the fifth and final story. Seeing the quiet domestic scene with the baby on the floor, she almost dismissed the unit as another dead end when suddenly she heard his voice—Keller's. She ducked out of sight, then peered cautiously around the corner again. Yes. Right guy, but what was this? He lifted a baby from a redheaded woman's arms.<p>

So he and the redhead . . . ? She was still trying to digest that astounding piece of information when another female came from the back room—and not just anyone—someone she quite certainly recognized from her past: Catherine Chandler!


End file.
